Zenil stood there, his eyes wide with disbelief, fixated on the motionless form of the boy he had just knocked unconscious. His face was sweating profusely, and his body trembled with a mixture of fear and astonishment.

He was the centre of attention on the battlefield, everyone was staring at him with the same expression. They were flabbergasted.

"Oh, I forgot one more rule." The announcer said, "If you knock out someone who has knocked out other people, you get their points."

The lanky person made direct eye contact with Zenil, a devilish smirk on his face. "Currently, Mr Fatman is leading the leaderboard with 1 point!"

As soon as these words entered the ears of all the contestants, chaos ensued. Chaos ensued on Zenil.

Many opponents rushed towards him, while many teammates rushed towards the rushing enemies. All in all, it was a mayhem, and Zenil was the centre of this storm.

He saw another person rushing towards him. This time too, Zenil ended the battle with one punch.

"Second Elimination! Fatman leading with two points!!"

Zenil gulped. The excitement in the eyes of everyone turned into worry and fear, after the second knockout. All of them lost their confidence, and on the other hand, Zenil grew a little more confident.

Now the opponents started running away from Zenil and started targeting the other team members.

Soon, more and more losses occurred on both sides of the team, a lot of blood was spilled, countless bones were broken, and many hopes were shattered in the playground within a span of mere minutes.

Now only Zenil and three of his team members stood in the middle of countless bloodied unconscious boys. 

"The first phase of the event ends! What an astounding climax!" The lanky person said with a smirk on his face. A few drops of sweat were visible on his face, he was looking straight at Zenil.

"Now! The second phase will begin!" He continued, "I am extremely sorry. But, I got a call from higher-ups to hold a second level as well. I am sorry Mr Fatman, please forgive me, pretty please?" 

"In the second phase, the target is the person with the highest point total, which happens to be Mr. Fatman, the MVP of the first phase," he explained with the same sly expression he had maintained from the beginning. "If the three of you lose, then Mr Fatman gets freedom. However, if Mr. Fatman loses, then whoever is still standing on your team gets the reward."

The tension escalated as Zenil noticed the intentful gazes of his former teammates. Zenil stood there, panting heavily, with scratches and minor blood wounds on his body, and yet a smirk on his face.

"Phase 2 begins now!"

***

In almost a minute, Zenil utterly destroyed his opponents. At this point in time, all reason in his mind had evaporated, leaving only the intoxicating rush of adrenaline. Zenil had never felt this way before, he never felt powerful, and he had not beaten someone in a fight for a long time. 

But, today was different, the Zenil today was different from the Zenil from yesterday. He had evolved.

"Now what? Will you fight me?" Zenil asked, his gaze fixed on the lanky announcer, who had just descended from the elevated platform.

"Fight? That's a very heavy word." He said with the same sly smile. "I will utterly decimate you."

The lanky announcer pounced on Zenil with his fist ready to deal some heavy damage to Zenil. On the other hand, Zenil also started running towards his target with a punch ready. 

When Zenil was within the announcer's range, the announcer ducked down and jumped with the extra momentum he gained from his knees, and landed an undercut punch to Zenil, sending him flying.

Zenil, who had only beaten opponents who had no prior experience in fighting was not ready for the change in announcer's attack. He couldn't react in time because he had anticipated a typical confrontation.

The wild adrenaline that had fueled Zenil during the battle began to wane, and the pain he'd briefly forgotten now surged through his body. His confidence, once soaring, faltered, leaving him bewildered and in pain on the ground. Zenil looked around the playground, and at his opponent, trying to formulate some plan.

Struggling to breathe, Zenil tried to push himself up, his vision blurry and head throbbing. His attempts proved futile as a sudden, searing pain shot through his side.

The lanky announcer wasted no time, circling around and landing a swift, painful kick to Zenil's ribs. The impact sent him tumbling back to the ground, his body racked with pain.

"You have never fought before, have you? Do you think I will just clash with you? You think I will let you get up?" The announcer said before he started laughing maniacally. 

Lying there, cold sweat covering his face, Zenil's once-confident expression turned desperate, and he realized he was in a dire situation. By now, the faint glow emitted by the park's lampposts had ceased, as the clock had struck 11:30. The lanky announcer stood over him, a sly smile still present on his face, ready to deliver the final blow.

The lanky announcer prepared for the final kick, his confidence unshaken. But this time, as his foot descended, Zenil gripped both of his hands around the leg, with an intense grip. Then, he sank his teeth into the announcer's leg and let him feel the sharpness in his teeth. A sharp cry of pain escaped the announcer's lips, and he recoiled, clutching his injured limb.

Backing away, a mixture of astonishment and agony etched across his face, the lanky announcer rolled up his pants and saw the wound he had just received, still feeling uncomfortable.

"You bastard!" He screamed as he moved his eyes to Zenil, who had already stood up and was running away. "What? Where the fuck are you running away to!"

The announcer got up and ran behind Zenil. The announcer seemed to be perspiring, with a look of tension on his face, and an ocean of rage in his eyes.

After a while, Zenil found himself standing with his back against the wall, his attacker in front of him and hanging bars in between them.

"Where you gonna run to? Huh. Mr. Fatman."

Zenil gulped.

He took a deep breath, calmed himself down, and rushed towards his opponent.

'Please work!'

Zenil ran towards the lanky announcer, who had taken his stance and was ready to take on Zenil. 

As Zenil dashed, he jumped up, grabbing onto the hanging bar above him. Rotating like a whirlpool around the bar. After completing a complete three-sixty-degree turn, he harnessed the tangential velocity acquired from this maneuver to spring upon the announcer.

The lanky announcer caught off guard, barely had time to process what occurred before Zenil landed a full-body slam on him. Now, he found himself sprawled on the ground with Zenil nonchalantly seated on his stomach.

'It worked!' 

The Zenil of yesterday could never even hang on the bar for a second, but today he was able to spin using it as the axis of rotation. He felt a change within him, a powerful change at that.

Before the announcer could do anything, Zenil started attacking him with a barrage of punches, each filled with anger, rage, anguish, and determination. 

Currently, Zenil had a wide, maniac-like smile on his face, his eyes had a crazy amount of excitement in them. Zenil had never made a face like this. He was having fun. He was letting his rage out.

The announcer, in stark contrast, endured no pleasure in this ordeal. His face bore a mosaic of blue marks, scratches, blood, and wounds, struggling to maintain consciousness. He tried several times to get up, but Zenil was a quiet heavy individual to say the least, weighing around a hundred kilograms.

"Oh, how the tables have turned!" Zenil said before he resumed to laugh like a maniac.

Soon the announcer lost his consciousness, yet the barrage of punches didn't stop until a voice voice emanated from the shadows atop the children's slide.

"You did well, boy." It was a calm, soothing yet manly voice full of confidence.

Soon a tall, muscular figure appeared from the shadows.